in this life or another (or maybe in a dream)
by tonberrys
Summary: Drabble collection. Recent pairings: Regulus/Peter, Louis/Lysander, Rodolphus/Regulus, Sirius/James, Justin/Ernie, Blaise/Theo, Fabian/Edgar, Alphard/Muggle, Albus/Gellert. Full list and summaries in first chapter.
1. Table of Contents

This will be a collection of drabbles/short one-shots about various pairings, some standard and some off-beat and out of my typical comfort zone. Initially, there will be a lot of slash for the purposes of an ongoing challenge at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments), but it might grow to include femmeslash and het later on, if I opt to make this a general shipping collection instead of just a slash collection. Anything Could Happen.

I'm praying it's not too terribly against the rules to have one of these, but the compulsive need to organize is strong enough that I decided to just go for it.

* * *

 _in this life or another (or maybe in a dream)_

* * *

Table of Contents

2\. **The Spy** – [Regulus/Peter] – K+ – _In a failed attempt to spy on the Slytherins, Peter gets stuck in a tree and finds himself relying on help from an unexpected source._

3\. **Paint on Your Canvas** – [Louis/Lysander] – K – _Lysander loves to watch Louis paint._

4\. **Pressed Between Pages** – [Rodolphus/Regulus] – T – _Guilty trysts. (Warning for infidelity and age gap. All characters are 17+.)_

5\. **Truth or Dare?** – [Sirius/James] – K+ – _The Marauders play a game of Truth or Dare._

6\. **The Good and the Bad** – [Justin/Ernie] – K – _Justin and Ernie are coaxed into trying Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans for the first time_

7. **Ailing** \- [Blaise/Theo] – K+ – _Theo tends to Blaise's cold, despite the dramatics._

8\. **Gambling on Gamboling** – [Fabian/Edgar] – K+ – _When Fabian told Edgar he didn't know how to dance, he hadn't specifically meant it as a request; yet here they were._

9\. **If the Sea Could Set You Free** – [Alphard/Muggle] – T – _When Alphard is away from home, he feels a little more like himself._

10\. **For the Greater Good** – [Albus/Gellert] – K+ – _Youth was bold and bright, a twinkling star in Gellert's eyes, and like a fool, Albus wished upon it each time they met._

11\. **Under the Influence (of Bugs)** – [Louis/Lysander] – K – _Lysander takes Louis to a magical creature sanctuary to paint, but Louis gets some unexpected help in the inspiration department._


	2. PeterRegulus: The Spy

**Note:** This has clearly now been turned into a collection comprising of an assortment of random drabbles/one-shots/challenges that I'm still exploring.

This was written for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments), where I'm in Slytherin House. Originally, it was specifically sparked by drabble tag where "Peter/Regulus, stuck in a tree" was provided as a prompt. I hear "drabble" and write over 1k anyway, so this is what came of it. I have legitimately never considered this pairing before, so it was something new!

Assignment #3, Gardening: Flower Meanings, Task #6 \- Gardenia: Write about secret love (whether requited or not)

Additional prompts and challenges listed in the author's note at the end of the story.

* * *

 **The Spy**

* * *

When James had said to spy on the Slytherins, Peter had seen his mission going a particular way. Climbing to the top of the trees and hiding within the leaves, he would pull out his binoculars like a spy from the Muggle films his mum sometimes liked to watch. Were he to uncover a bundle of Slytherin House's newest schemes, he could tell the others of his findings, and Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would be sure to come out on top.

Motivation was strong when the time came to set the stage. Nearing an hour shy of supper, Peter had scrambled to the top of a tree just off the edge of the Black Lake, a few trees down from where he had seen Sirius's little brother talking with Crouch and Rosier. Although Peter had never been much of a gymnast (had never been anything approaching a gymnast—after all, he lacked the grace and compact build that suited any attempts to leap majestically across branches), what he did have was a streak of ambition that had convinced him, for a moment, that he could cross over at the point where the nearest tree brushed against his own.

He was wrong, which he realized around the time he reached the thinner branches. In reality, he hadn't climbed a tree on his own since he was ten years old, and he had managed to forget how unnerving that feeling could be when the branches wiggled unstably beneath your feet.

Crouch and Rosier had wandered off some time ago, leaving only Sirius's little brother Regulus, and Peter had long-since recognised that he was going to accomplish nothing for James's mission when it was just Black the Younger, the most peripheral of the snakes in question. Sometimes he looked at Peter a little bit like Peter was a bug on his shoe, but sometimes even Sirius looked at him like that, so he could probably chalk it up to family resemblance.

Peter hadn't meant to spend his time in the tree staring down through the branches at the top of Regulus Black's head, or watching the way the leaves made interesting shadows on the back of his hand (and on the page of his open book, but Regulus's finger kept tapping a little rhythm, catching Peter's eye). He had really proper-looking hands. Peter's mum called them 'piano hands' - Peter had never had them, but his cousin did, and she was good at a lot of things, like Sirius and his brother seemed to be. Probably, stubby fingers weren't connected to being bad at things, but sometimes it felt like maybe they were.

A twig crunched in Peter's grasp, and he stiffened his whole body, but it didn't help at all, because Regulus looked up into the tree and saw him immediately. The younger boy's brow did this little thing between a lift and a furrow that made Peter want to smile, and he did a little, but Regulus probably thought he was laughing at him because immediately, the looked pinched.

"Taking up spying, are you? Or is there a completely reasonable explanation for why you're staring at me from a tree?" Regulus asked, his tone dry. The shadows were on his face now, and there was a leaf shadow covering one of his eyes in a way that made him look a little bit like a terribly cross pirate, and Peter wanted to smile again.

One thing Peter did know about Sirius's little brother was that saying James Potter's name around him made him really angry, so Peter gaped like a fish for a moment before an awkward sound escaped. It was supposed to be a laugh, but- "I just like trees."

"Right," Regulus said, eyes narrowing a little as they met Peter's, and for a moment, he stared back up, as if waiting for something. "You're stuck as long as I'm sitting here, aren't you?"

"I'm probably stuck even when you aren't sitting there," Peter blurted out before he could stop himself, feeling immediately embarrassed as he pulled another weak smile onto his face.

"Then why climb a tree in the first place?"

Realistically, it was a good question, but saying 'to spy on you' was probably not going to be an answer that helped at all, so Peter decided to deflect. "Mind giving me a hand?"

"Can't you just cast a bouncing spell to soften the ground?"

"I don't want to jump down. It's too high?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Then I suppose I can float you down."

"Can you come up here? I just need something to balance on, in case I slip," Peter said, feeling his face heat a little as a he choked out another laugh.

"You cannot be serious," Regulus said, lifting an eyebrow as he flicked his eyes from Peter to the thicker branches below, then back up to Peter again.

At that, Peter brightened, the familiar joke bubbling up like a delayed echo. "No, I'm-"

"-Don't you dare," Regulus warned.

"Please?" Peter asked, clinging a little more to the trunk.

"Can't you ask your idiot friends for help?" Regulus asked, slanting his mouth downwards and glancing around. "They're lurking about, aren't they?"

"Just me," Peter responded. "Lurking."

Regulus paused for a moment, brow knitting a little line between his eyes. After sparing another glance around the grounds, he let out a heavy sigh and set his book down on the grass. He must have decided there were few enough people around to make it worth the indignity, which was lucky, because Peter felt like his own indignity was reaching capacity pretty soon.

"If this gets back to my brother or Potter-"

"It won't!" Peter assured, thinking that it was absolutely more embarrassing for himself than it was for Regulus.

Grabbing onto the lowest branch - a deceptively easy first step, which is why Peter had chosen this particular tree - Regulus pulled himself up a level, and then another few until he was just below Peter. His face was a lot closer now, and the pirate patch had moved to his cheek. Regulus had an attractive face, Peter thought with a fluttering seize in his chest - a bit like Sirius's, but softer at the cut of his jaw (and softer in the eyes, now that he was close up). Some of the annoyance Regulus had been sporting had shifted to determination, which was a lot nicer. Determination to help you was a lot more reassuring than annoyance, and Peter liked seeing some of that pretense peel away.

Once Regulus was braced against the trunk, he seemed to hesitate - then held out a hand. When Peter took it, he thought that Regulus had really soft hands, too - the palms, at least, because his piano knuckles were a bit bony.

"Anytime. Whenever you're ready," Regulus said wryly, but he stayed braced in place, hand holding tight to Peter's in anticipation of the weight shift.

Peter flushed, maybe a little because his stomach had done a weird little flip, and maybe a little because he was stuck in a tree, and a fourth year Slytherin was having to help him down.

"Right! I'm ready," Peter said, clasping tighter on the offered hand and dropping down to the branch below, holding in a yelp when his foot landed on Regulus's foot instead of the branch - made worse when the other boy hissed quietly, and Peter couldn't stop a laugh because it was the sort of thing an actual snake would do, but he was a Slytherin, not a real snake-

"Can you-"

"Sorry!" Peter said sheepishly, bumping against him a little and pausing for a slightly humiliating moment as he tried to find a way down. Regulus was trying to inch some space between them, Peter noticed, but Peter didn't really mind the squish. There wasn't much room with all the branches, but Sirius had said his little brother was always a bit weird about people being in his personal space. Of course, when Sirius shared that fact, Peter hadn't really expected to experience getting up close and personal, but he kind of-

"You can get down from here, right?" Regulus asked, also glancing down.

"Definitely!" Peter said, settling on grabbing a branch off to the side, bracing himself, and taking another step down.

When he glanced back up, Regulus seemed to have relaxed again and was now peering down with a hand poised by Peter's shoulder, still ready to steady. The hand was reassuring, even if it was just those topmost branches that had felt most untrustworthy for a big jump. Within a minute, Peter had reached the ground again (with a pretty commendable amount of grace, if he did say so himself, though he was relieved to see there was no one around to congratulate him for it).

"Can you hand me my book?" Regulus asked from above him, now perched on one of the lower branches.

"Don't you want to come down first?" Peter asked curiously, but he had already picked up the book.

"I'm fine here for now. I intend to relax, while the opportunity is available," Regulus responded, though Peter thought it might have been that he didn't want to be seen ambling out of a tree after Peter.

Reaching up, he handed the book over, then crouched down for a moment to pretend like he had to tie his shoes. Privately, Peter hoped that Regulus had not noticed that his shoes had braved that whole ordeal pretty well, all things considered. Regulus did spend a lot of time alone, or with Crouch, but Peter spent a lot of time with his own friends, and for some reason, Regulus's face always scrunched up when they were around, even back at the beginning, before they'd really done much of anything to offend him. They barely messed with Regulus at all, compared to the other snakes, though Peter wasn't sure if it was because it was Sirius's little brother or because Regulus didn't really join into the ongoing war, despite his terrible choice in friends. Maybe it was a little bit of both. Truthfully, whatever the reason for his sour expressions, Peter thought his face looked really handsome when they weren't around. Of course, the thought alone was enough to trigger a mental image of just how much Sirius would gag if Peter ever dared to say so aloud—Peter wouldn't, of course—and maybe he ought to gag on his own thought, but he just felt a little warm, instead.

Now that he was secure on the ground again, Peter felt a creeping prickle of surprise (or maybe just appreciation) that Regulus had helped him at all, instead of just pushing him out of the tree like Mulciber would have. (Peter wouldn't have asked Mulciber, anyway.) Honestly, James and Sirius probably would have pushed him out of the tree, too, even if they wouldn't have actually let Peter hit the ground. At least not on purpose, and they always managed things that they put their minds to.

Sneaking a look up from under his own fringe, he could see that Regulus had nestled back against the trunk, leaning into the crook of a branch. His face was more relaxed now than it usually was, and much gentler than it had been a moment ago. Maybe that shift ought to have been a little more offensive, but the kid seemed to have a chip on his shoulder the size of Hogwarts Castle itself, so it still felt a bit like a win. His grey eyes flicked from the page of his book to Peter's own for a brief moment, lingering for a held breath. Although it wasn't quite a smile, his mouth flickered up for a second as he shook his head and looked back down to the page.

Again, Peter felt a little smile tugging at his lips. After popping up to his feet, he began his trek to hunt down his friends, trying to think up a few fabricated schemes to pass along to James; the schemes probably didn't need to be accurate to work as justification for a preemptive strike, and Peter was confident that Mulciber, Rosier, and Wilkes had something brewing, anyway.

Most likely, a thorough report about Regulus Black's hands and leaf shadows would not be the sort of Slytherin Report his friends were looking for, but Peter would tuck that part of the story away and make do. A bit of 'who started it' hand-waving was part of the game.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Applicable Hogwarts Challenges:**

365 Day Challenge \- 8. (action) Reading  
Insane House Challenge \- 852. (trait) Bookworm  
Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Oliver \- 8. House: Gryffindor  
Writing Club, Disney Challenge, Characters \- 4. George Banks: Write about someone grumpy  
Writing Club, Showtime, Book of Mormon, Spooky Mormon Hell Dream \- 10. (action) Lying  
Writing Club, Count Your Buttons, Words \- 4. (word) Awkward  
Writing Club, Lyrics Alley, This is Me \- 2. Hide away, they say  
Writing Club, Ami's Audio Admirations \- 3. The B-List: Write about someone average or someone who feels that they are average  
Writing Club, Sophie's Shelf, MWPP Femme/Slash \- 33. (pairing) Peter/Regulus  
Writing Club, Em's Emporium, Lin (Marvelgeek42) \- 6. Write a story set in Hogwarts  
Writing Club, Lo's Lowdown, Character Based Prompts \- 2. Jason Gideon: Write about someone who likes their alone time  
Writing Club, Film Festival, White Chicks \- 45. (emotion) Embarrassed, 54. (word) Hiding  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Days of the Year, Gay Pride \- Write Slash/Femmeslash  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Summer Prompts \- (word) Relax  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Flowers, Aster \- (word) Attractive  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Fire Element, Fire Prompts \- (word) Dry  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Shay's Musical Challenge, Book of Mormon \- Write about someone achieving their goal through dishonest means  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Gryffindor Themed Prompts \- (character) Peter Pettigrew, (trait) Impulsive


	3. LouisLysander: Paint on Your Canvas

**Note:** This was written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments).

Assignment #4, Women's History, Task #4, Winaretta Singer: Write about someone with artistic talent.

Additional prompts listed at the end.

* * *

 **Paint on Your Canvas**

* * *

Lysander feels his imagination come alive when Louis paints. As colours smears across a naked canvas, flicking and blending and gliding, Louis ushers forth the invisible with a silent, beckoning call. The unseen world is a beautiful place, stuck behind Lysander's eyelids, full of creatures with tanzanite eyes and sleek fur the colour of amber. Grasping at the images, Lysander's paintbrush always feels clumsy, no matter how hard he tries to mimic the effortless strokes. Louis still humours him with an assurance that even the most botched attempts are 'quite nice,' but Lysander knows it for the polite teasing that it is.

"Can you paint a xanti?" Lysander asks his boyfriend, who has been chewing on the end of a paintbrush for at least two minutes. Eyes tracing along the sharp line of his jaw, up to a mop of wispy blonde hair, Lysander wishes—not for the first time—that he could put that face to a page. If he had his camera, he would take a snapshot, but instead he settles for a smile because it makes Louis smile too.

"Tell me about the xanti."

Louis is sitting in a wooden chair in front of the canvas, perched close to the end, so Lysander slips in behind him. Their flat is a small one with questionable furniture to match, but if he's honest, Lysander likes the way the crickety chair creaks. His arms slip around Louis, hooking at the elbows, and he smiles a little wider into the crook of his neck.

"Mmm…" Lysander's parents have been talking about the xanti since they returned from their recent voyage to South America. Clamping his eyes shut, Lysander calls the description to mind, murmuring into the curve of Louis's shoulder. "My mum said they have feathers that splay out from their necks like a tigerlily, but instead of orange, they're a blood red colour with streaks of pale pink. Bulbous beaks, lean bodies, and four massive wings. They only reveal themselves in times of great need for the villages they protect."

When Louis opens his eyes, the canvas is a tangle of greens and yellows and browns, all surrounding the space where Lysander assumes the xanti will take form. He doesn't speak while Louis is painting, instead breathing in the clean smell of his skin and letting the thin locks of hair tickle his nose. The canvas comes to life, just as it always does, from something messy and vague to an image of subtle form and stunning beauty.

"How does it look?" Louis asks when at last the painting is complete, and with a flourish, he casts a charm that makes the four wings spread out with a certain majesty.

"Beautiful," Lysander says, and it is. "Like you."

"That was so cheesy," Louis says, but he's smiling. "Is it accurate?" he asks as he sets his wand and paintbrush aside. His whole body seems to relax as he slides his hands along Lysander's arms, still looped securely around his chest.

"I'm not sure," Lysander admits. "I've never seen one, and I don't actually think my mum has either. But they are supposed to be very interesting to look at, so yours is probably very accurate."

Louis chuckles, leaning his head back, and as their cheeks brush, Lysander captures the moment in his mind like a photograph—or like a particularly magical painting.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Other Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:**

Insane House Challenge \- 128. (pairing) Louis/Lysander  
365 Day Challenge \- 305. (style) Present Tense  
Fortnightly Challenge, Feline Fair, Siamese Cat \- 18. (colour) Tanzanite  
Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Queenie \- 19. (setting) Apartment  
Writing Club, Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair \- Blood Red  
Writing Club, Amber's Attic \- 8. "I bet if we dusted her heart for fingerprints, we'd only find yours." (5 point bonus)  
Writing Club, Lyric Ally, "First" \- How am I the lucky one?  
Writing Club, Sophie's Shelf, Other Era Fem/Slash \- 59. Louis/Lysander  
Writing Club, Angel's Arcade, Sonic, Amy Rose \- (color) pale pink, (trait) sweet, (action) hugging  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, National Cheese Day \- Write a really cheesy romance  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Colour Prompts \- (colour) Amber

Word Count: 560


	4. RodolphusRegulus: Pressed Between Pages

**Note:** This was written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments), where I am in Slytherin. Prompts are listed at the end.

 **Warning:** Infidelity and age gap. Both are legal adults by canon standards (17+), and there is no sexual content, but there are still some questionable power dynamics that make it dubious. Not my usual cup of tea, but giving it a try!

* * *

 **Pressed Between Pages**

* * *

It started the summer of his seventeenth birthday—breath on the back of his neck and the subtle creak of weight leaned onto the back of his chair.

"Did I have something on my face?"

Regulus had felt his cheeks flush, then, not quite able to look up from his book and the accompanying parchment full of his scribbled notes. No blemish had marred Rodolphus's face that day, though Regulus had not spared an opportunity to glance over at the smooth, square-cut jaw and look of apparent concentration on Rodolphus's face as he worked in the library where Regulus and Bellatrix had been training. She had told her husband to leave if he wasn't going to help (yet Bella did not want or need anyone to intervene, making her remark rather more pointed); but the man remained squarely in place. Truthfully, Regulus thought that text-related study was a more reasonable thing to do in the library than practicing curses, but it was one of the largest rooms in the Lestrange Manor, so he could not fully argue against the logic. Clearing a space in the dining hall would have been better, but his cousin and her husband seemed to be fighting today, so she might have chosen the library on purpose.

Bella had assigned a text on occlumency, following their lesson, but Regulus would have enjoyed reading it, even without the command. Upon her departure, he had settled in the back corner of the library, left to sweep his eyes diligently across each page—prior to the interruption. Concentration was difficult with Rodolphus hovering.

"No," Regulus had answered with a patter in his chest. "I was merely curious what you were working on." A half truth: Part curiosity, and part distraction with the handsome cut of his jaw, but the second part did not feel important.

Rodolphus had asked Regulus if he would like to see, but the materials were no longer in the large, open area of the library, moved instead to a nook more suited to study. The subject matter appeared to be curses that day, the kind that made Regulus's stomach drop, but his stomach had flipped in a different way when he felt the shivery sensation of a hand tracing the curve of his back.

Regulus had not meant to look up until the flush had cooled on his face, but their eyes had met with the flicking force of a magnet, seizing the breath in his chest. Rodolphus had kissed him, that day, pressed firm into a bookcase with fingers that sent jolts of lighting with each press and grasp. Regulus wondered if it was because Rodolphus and Bella were fighting, but even with guilt burning in his stomach, Regulus kissed him back.

Throughout the remainder of the summer, Regulus had kissed him back several times—in quiet spaces, hidden spaces, always when Bella was gone. Months had passed, and the winter holidays had brought with them the tingling ghost of a summer tryst. Tonight, they were at the Malfoys' winter gala at the manor, and Bella wasn't gone at all. Rodolphus had been watching him from beneath the rim of his hat, as if waiting for a diversion that would never come; yet when at last Rodolphus tugged him away from the throngs, the crushing guilt could not compete with his relief when the murmurous rumble of the party had faded completely.

There were several lightly used rooms off-shooting from the hallway. Regulus thought it would be smarter to find a place that had something (anything) they could pretend to be retrieving, were they to be caught, but when Rodolphus pressed him against the closed door, that thought jarred loose.

"I don't know that we should—the party—" Regulus started to say as Rodolphus nipped at his ear, catching the words in his throat.

"Would you rather be there?"

Regulus was having a difficult time with words while there was a mouth on his throat and a hand slipping beneath his robes, but that was probably the point.

"Mm...but Bell—" This time, he was cut off by Rodolphus's mouth colliding with his, taking his lip between teeth in another little nip before speaking:

"Don't worry about Bellatrix. Just trust me."

 _Just trust me._ Regulus hated how comforting the sentiment sounded to his ears, and he wished he could believe the recent attention was entirely sincere, rather than the function of today's frustration between Rodolphus and Bella. He wished he had the nerve to say as much, or at least the callousness to stop feeling so suffocatingly guilty at how wonderful Rodolphus's hands always felt. So often, Regulus felt angry—empty—lonely—crowded—inadequate—vaunted—but for a moment, he just felt.

When Rodolphus pulled away, Regulus's body was buzzing—his head was buzzing—and he summoned every scrap of focus he possessed at the moment to try to look nonchalant as they slipped back out into the hallway. Rodolphus looked more dignified than any grown adult probably should after snogging in what was little more than an overly large, empty closet, for all intents and purposes. Regulus had always thought the idea of broom closets was embarrassing, though he knew it was supposed to be exhilarating, fun, like some stupid mark of reckless youth.

This—whatever it was—felt a little bit darker. Rodolphus was probably using him, but perhaps, to some degree, the gaping hole in his own chest was using Rodolphus a little bit, too.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:**

Slash September \- Rodolphus (Rodolphus/Regulus)  
Insane House Challenge \- 426. (word) Murmurous  
365 Day Challenge \- 190. (location) Malfoy Manor  
Chocolate Frog Cards, Beasts, Porlock \- Write about someone not trusting someone else  
Fortnightly Challenges, Feline Fair, Russian Blue \- 16. Write about a sensitive person  
Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Hermione \- 3. item) Book  
Writing Club, Disney Challenge, Jungle Book, Songs, "Trust in Me" \- S3. (dialogue) "Just trust me."  
Writing Club, Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair \- 4. Parchment  
Writing Club, Book Club, "Release," The Faun \- (plot point) following someone, (emotion) worried, (word) intervene  
Writing Club, Showtime, Phantom of the Opera, The Music of the Night \- 5. (word) Sensation  
Writing Club, Amber's Attic \- 9. "I held you the way a boat holds water. I always felt us sinking."  
Writing Club, Count Your Buttons, Words \- 3. (word) Diversion  
Writing Club, Lyric Alley, "First" \- 3. You play the game, though it's unfair  
Writing Club, Ami's Audio Admirations, No Sleep Podcast, Home Alone \- 13. (setting) At night  
Writing Club, Sophie's Shelf, MWPP Slash \- 34. Regulus/Rodolphus  
Writing Club, Angel's Arcade, Sonic, Vector the Crocodile \- 11. (color) green, (house) Slytherin, (trait) confident, (object) hat  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Days of the Year, Book Lover's Day \- Write about a bookworm  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Fire Element \- (quote) "If it doesn't burn a little, then what's the point in playing with fire?" - Bridgett Devoue  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Shay's Musical Challenge, The Lion King \- Write about someone feeling guilty

Word Count: 902


	5. SiriusJames: Truth or Dare?

**Note:** This was written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments), where I am in Slytherin. Prompts are listed at the end.

* * *

 **Truth or Dare?**

* * *

"Truth or dare?"

Three pairs of eyes were on Peter as he squirmed with indecision. After only a few stretching seconds, James's hands suddenly looked like he was either wafting a smell towards himself or making a pisspoor attempt at dogpaddling in the air, but Sirius assumed it was supposed to be a gesture of encouragement.

"Come on, Wormtail," Sirius supplied in his friend's stead.

For a moment, it looked like Peter was going to stutter through another moment of stunted silence, but when he blurted out "Truth!", James lit up with a blinding brilliance that seemed to flush out the impatience he'd just been experiencing.

"If you had to snog anyone in this room, who would it be?" James asked boldly.

"What?" Peter squeaked, going a little white.

Sirius leaned back against the foot of his bed with a smirk while Remus shook his head, a sympathetic smile flicking onto his face. James had been stuck on the subject each time his turn circled back around, starting with a question to Remus about whether he'd land a smooch on Mary Macdonald if she asked him to. It was no secret that she had been making eyes at him for some time now, but at the end of the day, her head was as stuck in the clouds as Moony's was stuck on the moon. More than likely, James was just fixated because Lily had rebuked his advances again, but it made for top tier entertainment, whatever the reason.

"Erm...Remus?" Peter said as his white cheeks pinkened, although he didn't really seem sure of his answer.

Immediately, Sirius scoffed. "Oi! I'm a great snog, I'll have you know!"

"Unconfirmed," James piped in playfully, to which Sirius punched him in the shoulder. "Second hand knowledge only! Besides, look at that blush."

Ever the mild voice of reason, Remus set the game in motion once again: "Your turn, Peter."

"Right," Peter muttered. "Sirius—truth or dare?"

"Dare," Sirius said, folding his hands behind his head nonchalantly, but his eyes were brazen.

"I dare you to…" Peter's face was all screwed up, probably grasping at what he wanted to say. "I dare you to kiss—erm—"

The dare was an obvious attempt to copy James's theme of the night, but Sirius let it slide, instead looking at each of his three friends with obvious appraisal. Wormtail, scrunchy. Moony, eyebrow-quirky. Prongs, half ready to cackle.

Best friend or not, he was going to knock that smirk off James's face. Shifting onto his knees, Sirius reached over and hooked a hand behind the other boy's neck, tugging him into a crashing kiss that smashed their noses a little, but neither seemed intent on admitting that with anything more than James's muffled _mrmph!_

"Erm—Pr-Prongs? I guess? I was going to suggest going down to the common room..." Peter was saying, but Sirius was thoroughly ignoring him.

Sirius felt confident fingers thread into his hair, and all at once, a thousand pixies fluttered frantically in his stomach, beating like a storm against a window. His own fingers tangled into the porcupine that lived on his best friend's head—ink black, like his own—but they got stuck, so he started laughing. This time, James punched him on the shoulder.

"What are you laughing at?" James demanded.

Sirius felt his chest seize when their eyes met, and for a split second he felt a crushing fear that James was actually annoyed; but when he saw something heated and playful behind those dumb glasses, he was struck with an exhilarating rush, equal parts confused and delighted.

Pushing back, a little breathless, Sirius swiped his fringe out of his eyes and tipped his chin up with triumph. "How's that for 'unconfirmed'?" With a casual shift back to his spot, Sirius looked to Remus as if his heart wasn't still thundering in his chest. "Remus—truth or dare?"

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:**

Slash September \- Sirius (Sirius/James)  
Insane House Challenge \- 116. (pairing) Sirius/James  
365 Day Challenge \- 114. (emotion) Satisfied  
Fortnightly Challenges, Feline Fair, Maine Coon \- 10. Write about a childish person  
Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Hermione \- 5. (feature) Messy hair  
Writing Club, Disney Challenge, Jungle Book, Songs, "I Wanna Be Like You" \- S2. Write about someone copying someone in an attempt to be more like them.  
Writing Club, Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair \- 8. Secret  
Writing Club, Showtime, Phantom of the Opera, The Mirror \- 3. (word) Triumph  
Writing Club, Amber's Attic \- 14. "Home is any place that makes you forget the world is on fire." (5 point bonus)  
Writing Club, Lyric Alley, "First" \- 20. First you get close, then you get worried  
Writing Club, Angel's Arcade, Sonic, Rouge the Bat \- 8. (trait) Playful, (color) White, (action) Smirking  
Seasonal Summer Challenges, Days of the Year, Dare Day \- Write about a game of truth or dare  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Flowers, Peony \- (sexuality) Bisexual  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Gryffindor Themed Prompts \- (character) Sirius Black (trait) Confident

Word Count: 645


	6. JustinErnie: The Good and the Bad

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments), where I am in Slytherin House.

Assignment #4, History of Magic: Famous Historical Wizards, Task #1 \- Write about someone's first time experiencing Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

* * *

 **The Good and the Bad**

* * *

He hated surprises. A sudden crash of unpredictability was supposed to be part of the fun, but Justin Finch-Fletchley didn't much like leaving things up to chance. The first time a classmate had told him about Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Justin had thought they were making a joke of it; sweets that tasted like vomit or rotten eggs or literally like cardboard didn't seem like the best marketing strategy, even if they were mixed in with delightful flavours like cherry or butterscotch. As it turned out, the average magical child had grown up a bit mad about that sort of thing..

"You've never tried them? Neither of you have?" Susan asked with a hint of incredulity as she looked between himself and Ernie. Hogsmeade bustled around them, and the gentle breeze was sweet with the tell of spring's arrival. "Not even you, Ernie?"

"Absolutely not," Ernie said, his tone as lofty as it was emphatic. "I like a little more reliability in my snacks."

"I've thought much the same," Justin agreed. "I don't see why people don't just eat a normal pack of sweets."

"Where's the fun in that?" Susan asked, propping a hand on her hip while the other held a bag of the candy in question; as if to punctuate the point, she crinkled that bag between her fingers a few times.

Lifting his brow and stuffing his hands in his pockets, Justin shrugged. "Not getting spoiled milk, to start with."

"What are you afraid of? You have no sense of adventure." Susan flicked her auburn braid over her shoulder, but there was still a smile tugging on her face.

"Maybe not, but we do have sense," Ernie quipped back.

"Just try it," she continued to urge in that tone she got when she was stuck on something. "You don't even have to keep at it until you get a bad one, even if that _is_ part of the experience."

"How obliging of you." With a snort, Ernie shook his head as Susan opened the bag and poured a few of the beans into her hand.

"Just one."

"Pssst." Justin leaned in close to Ernie's ear, calling forth a stage whisper. "You distract her, and I'll toss them."

"I can still hear you."

As Ernie slipped an arm around his shoulder, fingers hooking on the neck of his jumper, Justin felt as much as heard Ernie whispering back, "Flawless plan. You claim you ate grass; I'll claim earthworm."

Susan rolled her eyes with a smile and a "ha, ha," but Justin's attention swiftly shifted back to the arm around his shoulder. Fighting the blush threatening to creep over his cheeks, Justin's hand hovered over Ernie's waist for a moment as he tried to determine whether or not the side-to-side press was going to last. Things had been a bit charged lately—in a good way, but in a confusing way, sometimes. Maybe Ernie sensed as much, or maybe he would have done so anyway, but when Ernie's hand squeezed his shoulder and adjusted into a more comfortable sling, Justin, too, settled his hand on the soft fabric of his side.

"What do you think, Justin? Should we humour her?"

Justin met Ernie's eyes as he turned the thoughts over in his head. There was a place for digging in your heels and making a playful principle of it, but at the end of the day, there was a place for making your friend really happy because she successfully thrust a new experience upon you, too.

"I think we should, yes," Justin said at last with a definitive nod.

"Hand them over, then," Ernie said, plucking an off-white bean from her palm as Justin took a purple one.

Purple was often associated with grapes, as far as common fruity tastes went. All of these beans were bound to have both good and bad options for each colour, but he was admittedly more worried for Ernie and his white bean than he was about the purple. Knowing that spoiled milk was out there in the world was aversion enough.

Popping the purple bean in his mouth, Justin bit in and made a face. "Radish," he determined, after a few seconds of chewing and reflecting on the taste. He supposed radishes were, in fact, also purple sometimes.

"Don't like radishes, then?" Ernie asked with a sympathetic smile.

"Not in my sweets," he specified, forcing it down with minimal contact on his tongue.

"My turn," Ernie declared, taking a bite out of half of the bean, chewing for only a second before his smile returned. "Vanilla." Eyeing Justin for a moment, he held out the other half. "For you, if you want to try it. Probably tastes a lot better than yours did."

There was no question that it would. Justin smiled back with a little flutter in his chest as he took the remainder of the bean and popped it in his mouth. Vanilla, just like Ernie had said, and much more pleasant to savour. He thought he ought to be a little bit embarrassed that Ernie had already bit from the candy, but if he was honest (and Justin always tried to be honest), it just made his chest flutter more.

Susan was smiling, and out of the corner of his eye, Justin thought she had flicked a glance to their slung arms and gripping hands. If she thought anything of it, she didn't say, instead funneling the remaining beans back into the bag.

"What a monumental day. Well done," she said. "I'm going to go find Hannah, and we'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks!"

There was not much time to respond before she had slipped into the crowd, so instead, Justin and Ernie exchanged another silent look and started towards their meeting place. They had taken several strides before Justin realised they were still flush together, side by side, but even if it made their steps clunkier, he liked the persistent closeness as much as he liked the taste of vanilla still lingering in small pieces on his tongue—both of which remained, all the way to the Three Broomsticks.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:**

Assignment #4, History of Magic: Famous Historical Wizards, Task #1 \- Write about someone's first time experiencing Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.  
Slash September \- Justin (Justin/Ernie)  
Insane House Challenge \- 708. (first line) He hated surprises.  
365 Day Challenge \- 139. (food) Bertie Bott's Beans  
Fortnightly, Feline Fair, British Shorthair \- 4. Write about a Hufflepuff  
Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Hermione \- 13. (restriction) Main character must be a muggleborn  
Writing Club, Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair \- 5. Radishes  
Writing Club, Showtime, Phantom of the Opera, Masquerade \- 9. (dialogue) "What are you afraid of?"  
Writing Club, Count Your Buttons, Objects \- O4. Jumper  
Writing Club, Angel's Arcade, Sonic, Cream the Rabbit & Cheese \- 5. (word) Soft, (action) Laughing, (weather) Gentle winds  
Writing Club, Film Festival, Knocked Up \- 1. (genre) Friendship - Write about a group of friends  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Flowers, Black-Eyed Susan \- (character) Susan Bones  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Gryffindor Themed Prompts, Traits \- (trait) Lively, (location) The Three Broomsticks

Word Count: 1,023


	7. BlaiseTheo: Ailing

I'm a Slytherin in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments). This was written for Assignment #4, Defense Against the Dark Arts: The Curse of Bogies, Task #1: Write about someone with a bad cold.

The list of Hogwarts prompts/challenges used are listed at the end of the story.

* * *

 **Ailing**

* * *

"This is revolting."

Theodore glanced over at Blaise, propped on a mountain of pillows and sounding rather like someone was plugging his nose. No one was, of course—it was the mucus—and coming out of anyone else, Theodore might've been bothered by the sheer amount of nasal fluid that had since dripped on the silk throw pillows.

"It is," Theodore agreed, propping open the bedroom window as sunrays poured onto the wood floor. "And it's revolting all over my mother's old pillows."

"You never said they were your mother's." Blaise was currently pressing one of the pillows to his forehead, as if to squeeze the feverish headache out of his orifices too, while he was at it.

"Would it have mattered?" Theodore asked, crossing the room to climb into the bed with him.

"Our of respect for your late mother, I would have tried to drip less," Blaise crinkled his nose and turned his face away, his back making a barrier of sorts.

"I don't think she would have minded too much," Theodore said thoughtfully, vague though his memories were. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he saw a hazy image of his mother sitting on the window seat across from them, staring out as if she was imagining herself taking flight towards the sky. Perhaps in her own mind, she was. "This was her favorite room, but she always brought me in here when I felt ill."

"Don't tell me I'm being mothered right now. I don't want to vomit too."

"Stop being a prick about it," Theodore said crossly.

"I'm dying. I have every right to be," Blaise mumbled miserably, covering his face with the pillow.

"I didn't realise I'd invited Draco into my bed."

"You had better not. Now who is being a prick to his ailing—companion?" With a sigh, Blaise peered from under the pillow.

Companion—Blaise didn't much like to say 'boyfriend,' and Theodore still wasn't used to it either, but it was probably something like that. The fall of the Dark Lord had landed his father in prison, and for some time, the manor had felt even lonelier than usual. Blaise had come to stay for a while—and a while longer. Now the halls echoed a bit softer, the shadows looked a bit dimmer, the air felt a bit warmer. Sometimes, thoughts of his father spread through his mind like a plague, turning over the way he would have scoffed if he were still here… but he was not. He might never be again.

Theodore had once looked forward to the day when he would have the entire manor to himself, yet here he was.

Blaise twisted slightly to look back at him. "I'm going to make you ill too," he said thickly.

"I'll manage." Theodore held his eyes, his fingertip tapping lightly on the back of Blaise's arm.

"If you think I'm going to play Healer for you when you do…"

A little spark had lit Blaise's eyes, then, and Theodore shifted to press a firm kiss to his lips, mouth twisting a little as his mouth slid against slime.

"Eugh."

"Revolting? I know."

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:**

Assignment #4, Defense Against the Dark Arts: The Curse of Bogies, Task #1: Write about someone with a bad cold.

Slash September – Blaise (Blaise/Theo)  
Insane House Challenge - 873. (trait) Dramatic  
365 Day Challenge \- 248. (restriction) No more than two people in story  
Fortnightly Challenges, Lead Pile Challenge, Red \- (word) Barrier  
Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Hermione \- 7. (era) Trio  
Writing Club, Amber's Attic \- 11. "Be with the one who makes you forget how terrified you are of falling in love." (5 point bonus)  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Summer Prompts \- (weather) Sunny

Word Count \- 520


	8. FabianEdgar: Gambling on Gamboling

I'm a Slytherin in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments). This was written for Assignment #5, Charms: Dark Charms Task #1, Tarantallegra \- Write about someone learning to dance.

The list of Hogwarts prompts/challenges used are listed at the end of the story.

* * *

 **Gambling on Gamboling**

* * *

"I could provide some pointers, if you would like."

Admitting to his dancing deficits had been a mistake, Fabian had realised as Edgar's offer settled in the air. Maybe mistake wasn't the precise word for it, but he could feel at his core that he was about to banter himself into some sort of hole.

In hindsight, Fabian should have known better. Edgar was a proper sort, the kind of bloke you really couldn't even call a bloke because it just sounded too casual a term. He was the sort who wore his hair in an immaculate combover everyday, whose beard was always trimmed close along his thin, pointed chin. 'Frustratingly attractive' had been Fabian's early assessment, and the urge to reach over and mess it up was ever-present. Even with all the bustling of Order business, Edgar always looked put together. Put together people often knew about things like dancing, with all those events they attended. The Bones always had Ministry and Mungo's events coming out of their ears.

"You're a dance instructor now?" Fabian eyed the other man with a little grin, beating away the (probably inappropriate) leap in his chest. "Do they teach that in Auror training? Dancing with Death Eaters?"

"Honestly, they probably should. I'm willing to bet a lot of the Death Eaters have fancy feet, if my suspicions hold any water," Edgar quipped dryly. "My ability to instruct is yet untested, but the offer is open."

"I don't mind a bit of dancing," Fabian said, though it wasn't strictly true. Dancing wasn't really worth his time when he could instead be testing out some experiment his brother cooked up; Fabian's energy always seemed to come in unrestrained bursts of inspiration, more often than not, but he felt the exception playing on his tongue. "Can't say I have much else to do tomorrow."

Even as the agreement passed his lips, Fabian privately acknowledge that it was dumb to fancy Edgar Bones, not because of who Edgar was, but because of who he was with—the fact that there even was a 'who he was with' in the question. Fabian didn't want to disrespect the lady Edgar had committed himself to, had never even met her, but it was hard to purge the flicker of jealousy, just thinking about it.

For just a little while, he stopped letting himself think about it.

* * *

Edgar wasn't a bulky or muscled man, but his arms were decisive, arranging Fabian's own hands as needed.

"I feel like a bird," Fabian said with a touch of embarrassment, though he didn't entirely mind the grip settling on his waist.

"Shall I fetch you some wings?"

"And a beak, while you're at it." Fabian would be tempted to flick him in the forehead if it was someone like Sturgis or Benjy or Gideon, but his hand held Edgar's shoulder in a firm grasp, instead. "Better to peck out the eyes of fancy footed Death Eaters."

"Best to save that for another time. No Death Eaters today, I reckon." With a flick of his wand, Edgar turned on some music.

With a nudge, Edgar had set to his instructive nudges and tugs. The music was lively, not too fast or slow, but Fabian speculated it was an attempt to make the moment feel less silly, prancing about Fabian's flat like awkward teenagers instead of men in their twenties. Fabian had half-expected Edgar to come back with an excuse to wriggle out of it, right up to the moment that Edgar had knocked on the door.

"Do you like dancing?" Fabian asked, and although Edgar seemed a little distracted with his instructive murmurs, he turned his blue-green eyes full onto Fabian's own.

"Quite so," came the mild response.

Fabian couldn't read whether his vagueness was a lack of enthusiasm for dancing (if so, why offer), for the moment (if so, why come), or distraction (he had focused very intensely to answer), but whatever it was had passed soon enough as Edgar lifted his arm up.

"Are you twirling me?" Fabian asked with a laugh he couldn't quite smother. "This flourish… Who even are you?"

"I'm your dance instructor."

"You're taking it so seriously," Fabian said, though he couldn't help the grin lingering on his lips.

"Time to switch. Now you do the same." As they came to a stop, Edgar retracted his hands.

Passing off control had been disastrous, but it had been a predictable disaster. Their arms tangled up, and they bumped a few times when Fabian moved in the wrong direction; or rather, the first time was on accident, and the times to follow were truthfully more a matter of fun than carelessness.

The final twist-around brought Edgar close, back to chest, and for a treacherous moment, Fabian pretended not to remember how to flip him out of it. Edgar smelled a bit like fragrant wood and spice mix—a cologne of some sort, probably. Fabian mostly ignored things like that in the day to day, so he couldn't guess at which.

The impulse to press closer had almost won out in that lingering silence, his lips fighting a number of related temptations when some stubborn sense of honour kicked in, and instead, he flipped Edgar outward with a bit too much flourish. A side table wobbled a little when Edgar struck it with an accompanying yelp. The bump sounded like one Edgar probably ought to be a little annoyed about, but Edgar soon smiled with a smile that reached his eyes, so it couldn't have hurt too much.

"Points for enthusiasm," Edgar granted.

"I can muster a lot of that." For a moment, Fabian locked their eyes and wondered what Edgar was thinking about within that baffling skull of his. Fabian wasl, however, grateful—not for the first time—that Edgar wasn't the sort to pursue something like Legilimency for the purpose of intruding on a person's thoughts without permission. Absurd and hyper-specific though the sudden gratefulness was, entertaining a mental snog with a married person was as embarrassing as it was depressing. Having that thought anywhere outside of his head probably wouldn't make it better.

Whatever the other man was thinking about, Fabian knew Edgar's own sense of honour wouldn't make anything of it... Indeed, honour and respect and dignity were key in the realm of good decisions, yet when a hand was extended, Fabian clasped it again.

It was a time for gamboling, but probably not for gambling. Probably.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:**

Assignment #5, Charms: Dark Charms Task #1, Tarantallegra -Write about someone learning to dance.

Slash September \- Fabian (Edgar/Fabian)  
Insane House Challenge \- 85. (pairing) Edgar/Fabian  
365 Day Challenge \- 211. (plot point) Dancing Together  
Fortnightly Challenges, Leaf Pile Challenge, Brown \- (action) Laughing  
Fortnightly Challenges, Pirates of the Black Lake, HMS Interceptor & Elizabeth Swan \- (pairing) Edgar/Fabian, (trope) Love triangle  
Writing Club, Amber's Attic \- 13. "Cupid is fucking irresponsible, and tired of him using me for target practice."  
Writing Club, Count Your Buttons, Words \- 1. (word) Disastrous  
Writing Club, Lyric Alley, "First" \- 11. Flying like a cannonball, falling to the earth  
Writing Club, Ami's Audio Admirations, The No Sleep Podcast, The King of Keys \- 6. (word) Key  
Writing Club, Lo's Lowdown, Character Based Prompts, Zuko \- 6. (word) Honour  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Colour Prompts \- (colour) Blue-green  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Flowers \- (sexuality) Bisexual  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Shay's Musical Challenge, Phantom of the Opera \- Write about someone being jealous  
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Gryffindor Challenge \- (trait) Lively

Word Count \- 1,076


	9. AlphardMuggle: If the Sea Could

**Note:** This was written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Assignments & Challenges), where I am a Slytherin: Assignment #5, Beauty Therapy: Spa Treatment Task #4 \- Write about someone entering a body of water (swimming pool, sea, bath, etc)

* * *

 **If the Sea Could Set You Free**

* * *

The brackish breeze smelled like freedom to Alphard Black. When his toes dug into the black sands of Santorini Island, he felt a little less trapped, a little less mad. Lounged on the beach, he was a world away from the House of Black, from arranged marriages and meaningless parties and that foolish war they had gotten themselves so worked up about. He could not deny the benefits of his name, but it was bloody intoxicating to see the world without chains dangling from his wrists.

He was in his forties, now, with a wasted youth behind him, the majority would say. Perhaps they had the right of it, objectively speaking, but when he thought about how his father and his little brother both had started churning out children before they ever sat for their OWLs, he could not help but think that he got the better deal as far as family roles went.

Alphard was stretching out on the beach lounger when he saw someone watching him from beneath a neighboring umbrella—two down from his own, to be exact. It was a man—relatively young, perhaps in his late twenties—with sandy hair. It was specifically the blonde sort of sandy, though on this particular volcanic beach, Alphard wryly acknowledge that his own ink-black hair could be described as 'sandy.' The man, whoever he was, held one of those guide booklets in his hands.

"Have you been here for long?" he asked. His accent sounded American, Alphard thought, and upon inspecting a little closer, this person did not appear to be dressed for the beach... unless he wore his swim trunks under his shorts, which would be rather odd, regardless of his background.

"A few days," Alphard offered.

"Any recommendations?" the man asked. "My friends all went to Mykonos, but it's not really my scene."

"Do you not consider yourself to be the Mykonos sort?"

"You don't seem to be, either."

"Perhaps I'm not; or rather, I haven't been in recent years." For a moment, Alphard's mind leapt backwards, to his own exploration of the islands when he was perhaps a handful of years younger than this person was. He had been rather poorly behaved on that particular trip, though it did not seem appropriate to explain as much. "I went once when I was younger. It was exceptionally flashy, for those who like that sort of thing."

"I guess you did?"

"I didn't really know what I liked," Alphard admitted. "I'm still not sure I've decided. There's too much to see, I say, to live in absolutes. No one at home seems to agree."

"Where are you from? England, I'd guess?"

"London, yes."

"Do you travel much?" he asked, taking a drink from a can—beer, most likely.

"As much as I can get away with." Unlike his conversational companion, Alphard had a glass of wine (a bottle, really) that he had been nursing that afternoon, and it was moments like these that he disliked the restrictions of a Muggle area. He knew he could not cast a replenishing spell on this wine without breaking the Statute, but the wine would taste even better if it was bottomless. So many things he liked would be better if he could drown in them, but that was not the way of it. He could not flood his system with adventures for long before reality nagged him back again. "Do you?"

"Not as much as I'd like."

"It seems we have that in common."

Alphard had not intended to fall into conversation with what turned out to be an American Muggle from some place called Colorado. Alphard thought it sounded a bit like Scotland, and he said as much. David was the man's name, and recently, he'd been working out of the 'concrete jungle of New York,' as he put it. This trip was meant to be a means to decompress with friends, though Alphard thought perhaps they should have overviewed their itinerary before committing to a group trip.

David asked about the places Alphard had been: to Russia, to Australia, to Egypt, to China. Each description lit up his eyes with vicarious wonder, and if Alphard was honest, it was a bit pleasant to see, and not only because so many people were tired of hearing about his adventures. He didn't really even mind that the man kept calling him 'Alfred.' He would posit that it wasn't a popular name where David was from, but it was not a particularly popular name anywhere.

By the time the sun had sunk below the horizon, most of the tourists on the beach had moved on to other more exciting activities; many of them would have gone to view the sunset at Oai, if he had to guess, though that viewing point was often more crowded than Alphard preferred.

"Do you have anyone to get back to? I didn't ask," David said, though he didn't look particularly apologetic.

"No." He was answering about his say in Santorini, but Alphard that it probably applied at home, too.

"I'm going to explore the coastline, if you want to come."

Alphard did not need to explore the coastline when he had already done so, but he wanted to, nonetheless. They walked along the black sand, close enough to the edge that the water lapped up over their sandled feet. David plopped down in the water at one point, letting the water wash up over his lap, though Alphard was still pretty certain the man wasn't wearing a swimsuit beneath the shorts. It seemed like an odd thing to do, but Alphard sat down with him, feeling the push and pull of the water as they sank a little bit into the sand.

It was the proximity that Alphard noticed first: the way David shifted subtly so their thighs touched. It was a bit forward for a first meeting, but it was not the first of such interactions, nor was it likely to be the last. Alphard was shifting his legs to stretch out into the water when he felt a hand settle on the inside of his thigh.

There was a measure of indignity to kissing on the ground, but Alphard had always wondered what it was like to do so with waves crashing over you. He indulged the curiosity, then, as their mouths collided. He was not disappointed.

The next day, he found David on the beach again; apparently, the man's friends were still on Mykonos because he was alone again. There was brief brush of temptation to slip away before he was seen, but the Muggle struck him as the decent sort. Perhaps more importantly, on some level, the sheer volume of shrieking that Alphard's dear sister would belt out if she knew he canoodled with the occasional Muggle was entertainment enough to indulge the indiscretion when it presented itself. As exhausting as the dramatics might be, they were almost always more entertaining than exhausting, in the end.

The day was spent exploring the island, paying little mind to David's guide book beyond the occasional point of interest. When David mentioned wanting to view the sunset at Oai, Alphard had recommended the donkey trail as an alternative viewing point. David had assumed it was a joke—which was, in truth, a fair assumption—but as they perched themselves at the top of the winding steps, David admitted the view was spectacular (and spectacularly private).

"There aren't very many people here. That's a bit of a running theme. You don't like people much, do you?" David asked.

New experiences were preferable to new people, strictly speaking, but it seemed hurtful to say as much. Instead, Alphard smiled tightly and took a drink from his flask. He had secured an opaque container before setting out that morning; the Muggle wouldn't notice a replenishing spell he couldn't see it.

The world was cast in a vivid brush of orange and purple, and when he glanced to the side, he could see it light up the line of white buildings in the distance. Alphard felt the wine's buzz wash over him steadily like a slow-rolling wave, and it was easier than normal to ignore the Portkey that was timed to take him back to London tomorrow morning. How easy it would be to simply stay, to muck about with Muggle tourists and whittle away at the sizeable pile of gold at his disposal until he one day passed away in this life of glorious leisure.

He would not do that, he knew. Alphard always went home in the end, home to the endless drama and the restrictive set of rules that seemed a bit arbitrary, in the grand scheme of everything one could find out here in the big, wide world.

Sparing a sideways glance at his companion, Alphard wondered if he felt that way about whatever his Muggle life was, back home with the friends who had gone off without him. Perhaps they were friends of convenience. Alphard knew a bit about friends of convenience.

When Alphard's eyes settled on the horizon again, he released a slow, heavy sigh. As the sun dove beneath the water, Alphard said a silent farewell to another holiday.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:**

Assignment #5, Beauty Therapy: Spa Treatment Task #4 \- Write about someone entering a body of water (swimming pool, sea, bath, etc)  
Slash September \- Alphard (Alphard/Muggle)  
365 Day Challenge \- 309. (time) Dusk  
Insane House Challenge \- 953. (style) Past Tense  
Fortnightly Challenges, Leaves, Brown \- (action) Kissing  
Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Queenie \- 20. (event) A witch/wizard having a relationship with a Muggle  
Writing Club, Disney Challenge, Characters, Bagheera \- 3. Write about a stern character. /alt/ Write about someone who is just done with the people around them being problematic.  
Writing Club, Lyric Alley, "First" \- 24. You got a feeling, or at least you can pretend  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Days of the Year, Evaluate Your Life Day \- Write about someone dissatisfied with their life, but not knowing how to change it.  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Autumn Prompts \- (word) Vivid  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Air Element \- (word) Breeze  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Audrey's Dessert Challenge, Premade Cakes, Cake 2 \- Write about wanting more of something

Word Count \- 1,534


	10. AlbusGellert: For the Greater Good

**Note:** This was written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) where I am a Slytherin. The main prompt is Assignment #5, Charms: Dark Charms, Task #6, Mutatio Skullus \- Write about a half-blood. (Albus Dumbledore)

* * *

 **For the Greater Good**

* * *

Youth was bold and bright, a twinkling star in Gellert's eyes, and like a fool, Albus wished upon it each time they met. A certain warmth stirred in his stomach when he wondered at what it would be like to spin the gold of Gellert's hair between his fingers as they kissed - how it would feel to have that cavalier smile pressed against his own.

So often they huddled together in his bedroom, just a breath away as they hunched over parchment, and Albus wondered what his friend would do, if ever he were to lean into that curiosity. Sometimes Albus saw it in those blue eyes: that enraptured look, that same lingering fascination. They were kindred spirits, the two of them, matched with a likeness in brilliance that Albus had never experienced before. That kind of sharpness of mind was exhilarating, pushing open the door to endless possibilities, and each day, he tangled himself in them more and more.

Gellert was the thrill of a vision beyond the walls of his responsibilities, the skill of a match well met. He was light and dark, present and future. He felt like freedom, and he felt like heavy chains. When he looked at Gellert's face, Albus felt as though he was looking into the face of the future.

He _was_ the future. _They_ were the future: the connection of two young minds who could shape the course of the magical collective forever. Albus and Gellert were a world of two, pulling their ambitions together and weaving them into something beautiful that would at last set the balance of the magical and Muggle worlds back into place. By their hand, wisdom and benevolence would usurp the age of fear and cowering; young wizards and witches like Ariana would be protected. Never again would the wizarding world have to hide - none of them.

Together, they would change the world - for the greater good.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:**

Assignment #5, Charms: Dark Charms, Task #6, Mutatio Skullus \- Write about a half-blood. (Albus Dumbledore)  
Insane House Challenge \- 75. (pairing) Albus/Gellert  
365 Day Challenge \- 232. (quote) "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." - Oscar Wilde  
Gris-Gris Bag Station \- (restriction) No dialogue  
Fortnightly Challenges, The Boyfriend Checklist, He Tells You You're Beautiful \- (word) Beautiful  
Autumn Funfair, Apple Bobbing \- (setting) Godric's Hollow  
Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Lucius Malfoy \- (feature) Blonde hair  
Writing Club, Disney Challenge, Themes, Pining \- (theme) Write about someone pining for someone else  
Writing Club, Showtime, Devil's Carnival 1&2, Cloud Serenade \- (word) Fool  
Writing Club, Amber's Attic, Human Centipede \- (word) Connection (5 bonus points)  
Writing Club, Lyric Alley, "Creep" \- I want you to notice  
Writing Club, Em's Emporium, Linked \- (word) Connection  
Writing Club, Bex's Basement, Love Potion #9 \- Write about unrequited love (JKR said it wasn't, in some random interview, so I'm going with that for these purposes)

Word Count \- 324


	11. LouisLys: Under the Influence (of Bugs)

This was written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments). Assignment #9, Arts & Crafts, Task 13 \- Write an Artist!AU (Extra Credit Bonus).

Other Hogwarts prompts are listed in the author's note at the end.

* * *

 **Under the Influence (of Bugs)**

* * *

The spirit of discovery spiraled up within Louis Weasley, reaching out through his fingertips and filling his head with an airy delight. New Zealand mountains rose up around him and his traveling companion with a majesty that sunk into his bones and tugged a smile onto his lips. Though their portkey had landed them a short hike from their intended destination, the day was warm and beautiful with the subtlest, loveliest breeze. Flashes of strawberry blonde hair kept sweeping into Louis's eyes, but it was worth the mild inconvenience.

"Are you ready for this?" Lysander asked from beside him, swiping back the pale fringe from his own forehead only for the hair to limply fall back into place. He had a worn brown rucksack pulled over his shoulders, looking disheveled but bright-eyed, and Louis's smile spread wider.

"Of course," Louis said, striding towards a clearing where the hill started to dip more drastically downwards towards a particularly unfriendly looking cliff. "Do we need to do anything?"

"I've got it covered," Lysander said, skipping forward to pull ahead. When they reached the cliff not even a minute later, Lysander pulled out his wand and gave it a swish: " _Revelio_."

Immediately, the rock started to peel away in a way that didn't look very rock-like at all, but Louis didn't let himself worry about it too much. Stepping through the newly revealed doorway, he felt the anticipation start to build, each step taking him close to the magical creature sanctuary Lysander had been talking about for months. Though it seemed as though they ought to be stepping into some dark cliffside passageway, the day remained bright above them, and instead of towering stone, he saw more stretches of grass, rising and plunging with the hills. They had passed through a disillusionment charm, most likely, to keep out the Muggle hikers.

Above them, a swarm of fairies flew overhead. Some of them appeared to be holdings hands as they flitted past, weaving skillfully across each others' paths. There must have been a method to it because never seemed to result in a collision, but Louis couldn't suss it out before they had disappeared again. There were some flashes of sapphire blue zipping towards a particularly prickly looking patch of bushes; Louis wondered if they might be billywigs, and although it was hard to say at that speed, it seemed best to avoid the bush, just in case.

"I love it," Louis announced, meeting Lysander's eyes, and the two young men mirrored their grins.

For some time, they wandered, hunting for the best spot and settling eventually near a lake where a few winged horses were taking an afternoon drink. With a flick of his wand, Louis had unpacked his art supplies, the easel assembling itself within seconds. Lysander was setting to work with a camera to capture some of the quicker creatures flittering around, but Louis had traded his wand for a paintbrush and set to work, sweeping broad strokes of moss green across the white canvas. Louis tried to burn the image of the winged horses into his mind as deeply and vividly as he could—the way the sun would highlight there fur and the ripples in the water as they stooped to drink. It would be a matter of imagination, to some degree, because no creature around seemed intent to lounge long enough for a portrait, but they truly were beautiful.

He was swooping his paintbrush to form the outlining curve of the first horse's back when he felt the sting on the back of his thigh. The yelp that escaped caught Lysander's attention quite immediately, but even as Louis bent down to rub at the spot, he started feeling the ballooning sensation of giddiness rising in his chest. With a bit of a flourish, he turned back to his painting and continued on, feeling the joy of it even if his sudden (if brief) ruckus had scared off the horses.

"Overcome with unbridled joy, are you?" Lysander said when Louis allowed a sniggering giggle of sorts to bubble up.

"It's just wonderful, isn't it?" Louis said, swooping colours a little more liberally, though his skill was as practiced as ever.

"It is," Lysander agreed, amusement starting to flicker onto his face when Louis slowly, slowly started to rise to a hover, at first levitating no more than a few inches from the ground. "Met with a billywig friend, did you?"

"I was wondering if that's what those were at the entrance…" Louis mused aloud as Lysander put a hand on each shoulder and gently lowered him back to the ground, keeping his hands in place. "I feel like I can fly."

"If you would like to finish first, we can check the sack for ointment after. Most likely, it was just the one, but you could be floating for days. Bad for painting."

Louis didn't mind too much because Lysander was rubbing at his shoulders now, half to keep Louis on the ground and half to be an utter delight, most likely.

"If it never goes away, will you keep doing that indefinitely?" Louis asked, taking his brush in hand again. "I don't know if I've mentioned lately that it's the best thing."

"It has come up," Lysander said with a snigger of his own. "Would you like to keep working? I wonder if the painting becomes more valuable when you're under the influence of billywigs. I feel like I've heard that about artists."

"Probably," Louis said, and though his smile was probably a bit dopey, he couldn't quite feel embarrassed about it, instead turning his attention back to his painting.

He would look back on that painting later with a mildly embarrassed sort of amusement: after all, the colours had become more whimsical than strictly realistic, and an oversized billywig made an appearance in the final product. Every time Lysander's ointment would wear off, Louis would get a bit floaty again—but no matter how silly it seemed, in the end, it had felt perfect.

Perfectly imperfect. Sometimes, that was the best thing that could happen to a painting.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:**

Assignment #9, Arts & Crafts, Task 13 \- Write an Artist!AU (Extra Credit Bonus)  
Insane House Challenge \- 855. (trait) Artistic  
365 Day Challenge \- 207. (plot point) A character finds something  
Marauders' Map \- 35. (plot point) Finding a secret passage, 211. (object) Portkey  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Selkie in Bahrain \- 24. (word) Water, 13. Write a story on, in, or near the water  
Slytherin Speed Challenge (72 Hours) Buttons, Blue \- 12. (word) Highlight  
Writing Club, Disney Challenge, Characters, Te Fiti \- 5. Write about someone in touch with nature  
Writing Club, Amber's Attic. Stand By Me \- 19. Write about travelling a long way in order to see something (5 bonus points)  
Writing Club, Lyric Alley, "You Don't Own Me" \- 6. When I go out with you  
Writing Club, Em's Emporium, Scarves \- 8. (word) Airy  
Writing Club, Lo's Lowdown, Character Based Prompts, Jemma & Fitz \- 3. Write about two people who are inseparable  
Writing Club, Bex's Bazaar, Spiderman: Homecoming \- 16. Write about someone adorable  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Days of the Year, Take a Hike Day \- Write about someone who loves nature  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Autumn Prompts \- (quote) "Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn." - Elizabeth Lawrence  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Colour Prompts \- (colour) Moss green  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Air Element, Air Prompts \- (word) Fly  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Audrey's Dessert Challenge, Filling, Cookies and Cream \- (AU) Artist  
Autumn Seasonal Challenges, Ravenclaw Prompts \- (trait) Whimsical

Word Count \- 1,021


End file.
